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292
KRONBORG.
Chap. XVIII.
the public many of the most enjoyable walks. Those
who by their position are entitled to the possession of
these cards seldom or never use them, while others to
whom the admission would be a boon are deprived of
the enjoyment. But, as I said before, the ramparts of
Kronborg are charming: before them the fishers
everlastingly ply their trade—flounders, and a fish called
“ green-bone,” * a horn-fish, are their prey. Had
Shakespeare searched the world round he never could have
selected so fitting a locality for the ghost-scene. I can
see the ghost myself—pale moon, clouds flitting o’er her,
frowning castle, and the space necessary to follow him ;
but the romance of Kronborg is over ; her bastions are
redolent with deep-purple violets, and the roseate buds
of a statice — Krigskarl, or the Warrior, they here
call it — which looks as if it should be something
better, but will, I dare say, turn out common thrift
after all. When the fishing-boats return at sunset, a
little girl runs down to the shore side, and waits; as
they pass by, a small flounder is thrown to her from
each boat; she gathers them up in her apron, and
then returns to the castle. I wonder if this be a relic
of hereditary blackmail, exacted in former days by the
governor from the fishermen who cast their nets under
the shadow of the fortress. A man-of-war enters the
* The horn-fish, called “ green-bone ” on account of the colour of its
bones, forces its way into the Baltic from the North Seas through the
Sound early in the spring, at which time it is thin and poor; it returns,
however, in the month of October, weighing some pounds more
than on its previous voyage ; you might boil it down in its own
fat. The manner of taking these fish is singular; they are timid by
nature, and afraid of the nets : no sooner does the shoal approach than
the fishers commence a regular bombardment with stones, and so
frighten them into their meshes.
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